


More Than Friends

by aesthetixoxo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 03:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesthetixoxo/pseuds/aesthetixoxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's the shy out cast who prefers the company of a book rather than a person. Zayn's the outgoing one who can't help but fall for the new boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Friends

Harry was the new boy in school, he was quiet and shy, he loved cooking, and always sat in the back of the classroom, alone. He entered his new class, all eyes averting to him, as he took his seat. His teacher continued speaking, even though nobody was really paying attention. Most everybody had their phones out, texting, or listening to music. Everyone except one person, Zayn, who couldn’t help but stare at the new lad. Harry glanced up from time to time, noticing this, but not taking any thought to it.

Zayn was writing in his notebook, biting his lip, staring intensely at the page. Zayn was a natural writer, he always had a knack for interesting ideas, his work was well written and the details were immense. He wrote about action scenes and adventure, and battling in the army, but today, he felt like writing something about romance. The main characters were him, of course and the new boy, although he didn’t know his name, so every time it came to his name in the story, it was a blank spot that he would have to feel in later, when he finally got a chance to speak to him.

When it came to lunch time, Harry took a tray, and made his way to an empty corner where nobody could find him. He had brought a book to keep him occupied, because he didn’t eat much. The contents on his tray were a cup of water, a slice of pizza, a fudge pope that was probably melt, an orange, and his eating utensils. Out of everything, he gulped down his water, and nibbled on his pizza, without touching anything else. 

Zayn slowly walked around the cafeteria for 5 minutes before finding the curly haired lad seated alone, and smiled as he sat criss-cross beside him.

Harry looked up, then back down at his food, pushing his tray to the side, and grabbed the book that he was halfway into.

Zayn looked at the title, smiling. It was also one of Zayn’s favorites, a story about a girl who gets put into 1 of the four factions, and has to fight to keep from being homeless; Divergent. There was a sequel to it, titled Insurgent, and Zayn couldn’t wait for the threequel to come out. “It’s a good book." He stated, trying to make conversation.

Harry nodded, flipping the page. “Yeah, whatever." Harry didn’t like talking to people. He never had many friends, and the few he did, he didn’t talk about books with; he talked about music and baking. He worked in a local bakery, and what time he didn’t spend there, he spent playing guitar and singing in a band that used a garage as their studio.

Zayn continued, oblivious to the fact that Harry was annoyed by his presence. “I’m Zayn, by the way. Great author, I have the whole series. If you want, I can lend the second one to you."

Harry shrugged. “Sure, whatever."

Whatever seemed to be one of the only words in the boy’s vocabulary, Zayn thought to himself. He’s not much of a talker. “What else do you like to read?"

Harry looked up, sighing. There was no way he was going to get away from Zayn that easily. “I like to read music, and I like to write music, too." Harry stated, his eyes going back to his book.

"Really? I play a few instruments myself. My friend Niall taught me the drums, and I learned the guitar pretty easily."

Harry laughed quietly to himself. This boy just didn’t know when to stop talking. “Do you wanna know my life story, or something? Because it’s not that interesting."

Zayn licked his lips, bring his cup of orange juice to his lips as he nodded. “You seem interesting, to me, at least."

Harry closed his eyes, his head pressing against the tiled wall that divided the cafeteria from none other than the music room. “Well, I’m Harry. I work in a bakery, and I’m in a band. White Eskimo."

Zayn’s eyes lit up with eagerness and Harry couldn’t help but smile at the interest that Zayn showed. “I’d love to hear some of your music, I bet you’re great."

Harry nodded, trying not to be cocky; but it was true, he was great, and everybody had told him that. “Yeah, thanks. We’re practicing after my shift at the bakery today, if you wanna come and listen." Harry suggested.

Zayn nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. “What bakery do you work at? I can come and keep you company. When your shift ends, then we could go to your ‘studio.’"

That seemed like a good idea, and it was always great to have somebody to talk to on the slow days at the bakery. “I work at Golden’s, just down the street. Every day after school for two hours, and sometimes on Saturdays."

"They have the best pastries, my mom buys them all the time." Zayn loved their cupcakes, and they even made him a cake for his sixteenth birthday last year. He was a regular customer, but he had never been there; his mother brought home cupcakes and cookie for him when he was younger, and had ordered the cake for his birthday, so this gave him a reason to go, instead of having his mom pick up a dozen cookies after work.

Harry nodded, he had to agree. “After work, whatever is left over, they let the employees take home because they’ll be stale the next day. My favorite are the fudge cupcakes with the cream cheese icing." Harry glanced up, picking up his tray. “Well, I have chemistry, and I can’t be late. Again." He said before leaving Zayn there on the floor.

Zayn couldn’t believe it; Harry was perfect. He could bake, and he could probably cook, and the fact that he was in all of Zayn’s classes so far was even better. He was smart, Zayn knew from maths when Harry had answer half of the questions that were being asked.

After school, Zayn had been quick to leave biology, arriving at the bakery just minutes before Harry did. He took a seat in the corner at a booth, putting his bag at the other side. He had a bit of homework to do, math and history, and a bit of english homework, which was always his favorite. He pulled out a book he had brought just for Harry, Insurgent, along with enough money for two cupcakes and a tea. He left his things there, careful that nobdy would be able to steal them and walked up to the counter, where Harry was already putting on an apron and getting prepared for his shift.

"Hey, looks like you made it!" Harry smiled as he put his things up; He had finished his homework in study hall, and even had time to do some extra credit. He glanced up at Zayn, who was holding a book in his hand. Harry took it in his, raising an eyebrow. “What’s this?" Before Zayn could answer his question, he looked at the title. “Oh, Insurgent. Thanks mate." Harry shoved the book in his bag, knowing it would take him weeks to finish it when he wasn’t even 3/4 done with the first one.

Zayn shook his head. “It’s no problem, really. Anyways, I’ll have two of the fudge cupcakes with creamcheese icing, and a tea." He put the money on the counter, waiting patiently as he looked at the signs hanging around the bakery.

Harry took out a bottle of Snapple tea from a cooler, and 2 cupcakes from a tray, then put the money in the till. “You have $1.67 in change." Harry stated, pushing it forward along with the pastries."

Zayn picked up one of the cupcakes and the tea, but nodded to what was left. “You keep it, I bought it for you."

Harry smiled, taking the change and putting it in the tip jar. He leaned against the counter, chewing on the soft fudgey cake. He looked at Zayn was, biting his lip. He didn’t like people, not as much as he loved other things like reading and writing, and singing, or playing guitar, or being with his family, even though they were people, too. But Zayn was different, Harry thought. He’s nice, and even when he talks too much, it’s kind of… cute. And over the course of the day, Harry had to admit, he had even developed a slight crush on the boy who was just a year older than him; just a year wasn’t that much of an age different, yet Harry felt childish compared to Zayn who Harry couldn’t help but notice was always writing something. What he wrote, Harry had no idea, but Zayn was interesting so his work had to be interesting, too.

Zayn munched on the cupcake, which was quite amazing. He’d have to tell his mom to get these more often. He finished the sentence that was writing, which completed his homework. He put his things away, grabbing his tea, and his bag around his shoulder, and sat on a barstool at the counter. “Slow day, yeah?"

Harry nodded. “When it gets really slow, sometimes Mr. Payne- he’s the owner- he let’s me experiment in the back." Harry explained, continuing into a story about a time he made a cupcake with spinach and sardines. “It was actually good, the batter wasn’t really sweet, so it just tasted like a sandwich."

Zayn made a disgusted face, topped off with a gagging noise to show how repulsive the though spinach and sardines sounded. “That’s gross, who eats sardines?"

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “I do, but if you don’t like them, that’s your problem." Harry shrugged. There was only half an hour left of his shift, then he would be strumming his guitar along to Jenny Don’t Be Hasty, or Summer of 69, or maybe this time they would do one of his favorite Coldplay songs. 

"Whatever." The bell above the door rang, signaling the entrance of a customer. Zayn and Harry both looked up, a grin on Harry’s face. “Zayn, this is my friend Liam, who’s also the owners son."

Zayn smiled shyly, reaching out to shake Liam’s hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m Zayn, as Harry just said."

Liam smiled back, giving Harry a look, Harry rolling his eyes in return. “I’m Liam. I see you met our newest employee already, I hope he didn’t scare you.

Zayn chuckled to himself. Scare me? Zayn thought. No, he just made me fall in love with him. But he wasn’t going to say that aloud, at least not with Liam here, and maybe not anytime soon. Possibly not ever.

Harry shook his head, heading to the back. “No, no, we met at school. Zayn’s in some of my classes, and we just kind of got on really well, so I invited him to come listen to White Eskimo."

Liam nodded, eyeing Harry. “Does he know? I mean, about your secret that isn’t really a secret?"

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Not yet, but I think I can trust him." Then, turning to Zayn, “I can trust you, right?" He asked.

Zayn nodded.

Liam said his goodbye, collecting the money that he had come for, then left.

"He was nice. But what did he mean by ‘Secret’?" Zayn asked, confused. What could Harry possibly have to hide?

"I’ll tell you soon enough. Anyways, if I wanna be there in time, we better get going." Harry put his apron up, pulling his bag out from under the counter. “I think we’re doing Coldplay today." Harry stated, far off in his own world.

Zayn followed after Harry for two blocks, when they finally came up to a house that was painted blue, two stories high. “So this is the place you practice? Are the like, rich or something?" Zayn had seen plenty of houses in his time, many that he didn’t care to see again, but this house was something else. The yard looked like a football field, with no houses surrounding it. It had a chimney, which meant a fireplace for the winter, and 7 windows that he could count- which meant seven rooms, not including the bathroom.

Harry shrugged his shouldered, ringing the doorbell. “Yeah, you could say that. I mean, Will’s parents can afford the house and equipment along with food and other things they need. They get by."

Will was Harry’s band mate, Zayn was guessing. But was he also his boyfriend? Was that the secret? Or did he have a girlfriend that he hadn’t bothered to tell Zayn about? So many questions he wanted to ask, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. Out came a pretty actrive blonde boy who Harry hugged and called Will.

Harry pointed to Zayn and whispered something to Will that Zayn couldn’t hear, and Will made a face that was partly amused and partly happy, an emotion that Harry could make anybody feel.

Zayn followed after quietly, Harry not bothering to introduce him to anybody as they started. Zayn recognized the words that came out, but the voice wasn’t familiar- it was Harry’s, but when Harry sang, it was much more passionate than when he spoke. It was beautiful, Zayn thought. And more thoughts like these swam around in his mind. Harry’s beautiful, he’s funny, and kind, and he’s in a band, and he can bake. He’s amazing. But he’d never like me, He reasoned to himself.

Harry closed his eyes, getting into the song. Just as he thought earlier, They were doing a Coldplay song, one of his favorite’s, actually. The words didn’t just come out of him, they flowed like a waterfall. “Tell me your secrets, ask me your questions, let’s go back to the start…"

Zayn loved this side of Harry, the one that was different from the Harry he had knew before. He had different personalities, the shy one, the outgoing one, and the passionate one, and many that Zayn felt he had yet to see. When Harry finished, the guitar player ended with a solo that was insane.

Harry looked to Zayn, curious to hear his opinion. Harry didn’t know why Zayn’s opinion actually mattered, but for some reason it did.

Zayn smiled up at Harry, nodding. “That was great, loved the guitar solo at the end."

The guitar player beamed, but Harry couldn’t help but frown internally. On the outside, he just stood with a blank face, tuning the guitar for the next song.

They practiced for about an hour after that, and Zayn never got tired of hearing Harry’s voice. Zayn was sure that he would fall asleep any minute now, he was so comfortable an relaxed.

Harry snapped Zayn out of it when he shook him, Zayn’s eyes opening quickly. “We’re done practicing, you can go home if you want."

Zayn’s face became pink, embarrassed. “I don’t know how to get to my house from here." And even if he did, he much rather preferred Harry walking him home.

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. “I’ll walk you home, payback for the cupcake."

On their way to Zayn’s house, Harry was singing or humming a song the whole time, which didn’t bother Zayn. When Harry was singing, he was apart of a whole other world, and Zayn was interested in finding out more about Harry, they way he thought, and the way he felt.

Harry stopped at Zayn’s doorstep, looking down. This was more awkward than Harry had expected it to be- He had walked people home before, of course, but he liked Zayn, and that was the hard part. Usually, when he liked somebody, he walked them up to their door after a date, and they kissed. But this time, he was just walking him with a friend, who he had just met today, and there would be no kiss, and there hadn’t been a date. So Harry just looked up, smiling at Zayn, and said his goodbye.

The way the moonlight shown down on Harry’s curls, and the way Harry smelled of cologne and cupcakes and leather was making it hard for Zayn to keep control of himself. But he managed to get into his house after talking to Harry for a minute, and slid down the wall. He sighed, regretting not kissing Harry, because he might not get another chance. Zayn’s parents were both asleep, so he quickly snuck past their bedroom, and into his.

Hours later, Zayn woke up to a tapping at his window- it was Harry. He rolled his eyes, opening the window to let Harry in. “It’s three in the morning, what the heck is so important?"

Zayn was grumpy when woken up from his sleep, but Harry laughed at how cute Zayn was. “Sorry to disturb you, I just couldn’t stop thinking of you. And I need to do this before I lost the chance."

Zayn was confused. “Do wha-"

He couldn’t get the question out because Harry had kissed him. And he was glad he couldn’t ask, because this was answer enough.


End file.
